This is where my thoughts pool as a reservoir of miscellany and peculiarity. It's actually not my brain that's dripping -- it's my soul that's leaking.
It's really no big deal.
To Go to Lvov (at Poetry Foundation)
It is a privilege for me to be introduced to Zagajewski's poetry, which I have been, unbeknownst to my self, neglecting. What an article! "His work is haunted by the lost detail of things, which it is part of his sacred duty to list, which he does with relish, because he loves language, and with restraint and something close to regret also because he distrusts language just as much." THIS. I can't express it because I am not trusting my own ability to use language.